Leap
by Azzandra
Summary: Kmeme fill. F!Hawke/Fenris, post-game. Fenris proposes... kind of. Fluff.


Their life settled into a routine, if one could describe the constant flight from templars as such. They kept to the wilds, hiding in caverns or in woods, and to the small isolated villages that dotted the countryside.

Fenris did not mind any bit of it, as long as he was at Hawke's side, and though Hawke complained about the tiresome running, and the lack of commodities (life in a Hightown estate had clearly spoiled her), at night, when their eyes met across the fire, there was always a smile on her face, a secret, playful smile that she only ever gave to him. It made his heart wrench in the most pleasant manner possible.

Still, Hawke was always happier when they reached some far-off village that remained untouched by the war.

On one notable occasion, they'd managed to find a sizable village in the mountains, serving merchants who used the nearby pass. Since trade was slow that time of year, they managed to find rooms at the local inns.

The innkeeper, a bulbous woman with a shock of dirty blond hair and a messy apron, stared them down intensely.

"Two rooms, then?" she asked gruffly.

"No, just one," Hawke replied.

The woman scowled, disapproval clear all over her face.

"We're good, simple folks. You may think this is some backwater village where you can get away with anything, but I'm warning you. We don't take well to improper behavior around these parts," the innkeeper muttered.

"Improper behavior?" Hawke repeated, sounding genuinely surprised. "I don't understand, are you saying there's anything improper about my husband being an elf? Backwater, indeed!"

Fenris' eyes nearly popped out of his head in surprise, but he limited himself to throwing Hawke a sideways glance.

"Oh... well, _no_," the innkeeper fumbled for words. "Of course not. Marriage is sacred in the eyes of the Maker, even marriage to a kni—elf. An elf."

The woman's jaw clenched and she threw Fenris a reproachful look, as if he was the reason for her embarrassment. Fenris was more than glad to give his best glare back, and she was the first to look away.

Later, in their room, as they were getting ready for bed, Fenris busied himself with the buckles of his armor and spoke without even looking in Hawke's direction.

"It doesn't seem right to lie about this sort of thing," he said.

Hawke, who had been taking off her boots and shaking out some pebbles that had made their way inside one of them, looked at him in surprise.

"You mean about us being married?" she said, quirking an eyebrow. "Then I'm not going to use that lie again."

"I was actually thinking..." He trailed off, fiddling with his gauntlet nervously.

"Go on?"

"I was thinking about the opposite approach."

She said nothing, and he continued looking down, his mortification growing by the second. She got up from her seat and walked to him. When finally he saw her bare feet on the floor before him, he chanced a look up. Hawke was giving him the _smile_, and he honestly could not imagine what he'd said that warranted that.

"Fenris, are you proposing to me?" Hawke asked.

"I..." His mouth was dry all of a sudden. He felt a swell of panic all of a sudden. "Forget I said anything," he said finally, looking away from her. "I've nothing to offer you but myself, and I am already yours."

Hawke chuckled and cupped his face, turning it just slightly to plant a kiss at the corner of his lips. Eager to erase the memory of that awkward conversation, he pulled her into his lap and kissed her more deeply.

They left the next morning, and for the following two weeks, Hawke did not bring up the subject of marriage again.

Fenris was simultaneously relieved and heartbroken.

* * *

><p>They reached another village eventually, in time for some sort of festivity. The squat houses were decorated with garlands of flowers and the young women of the village had similar flowers braided into their hair. There was music in the air, and crowds milling in the village's square.<p>

"This looks like quite the party," Hawke remarked to a random villager. The man looked her up and down in a way that makes Fenris growl.

"Oh, indeed! Have you come from afar?" he asked Hawke while giving her a gap-toothed smile.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Hawke replied.

"Ah, I don't suppose you've come to find a husband?" the fellow continued.

"No, not as such," Hawke said. "Why?"

"Oh, well, for the ceremony, of course. Very popular around these parts, see. Young couples come to receive the blessing of the Maker in marriage."

"You don't say!" Hawke's face lit up in interest. "Do you suppose I can participate if I've brought my own husband material?"

"Sure," the man sniffed, throwing Fenris a narrow-eyed glance.

"Marvelous," Hawke exclaimed, hooking her arm around Fenris'. "When does the wedding start?"

"Towards evening, actually. Just go join the other happy couples. Can't miss it."

The man disappeared into the crowd after that, leaving Hawke with a beatific smile on her face and Fenris with a confused frown.

"Surely it isn't necessary to continue this charade," he said.

"Charade? I don't quite understand," Hawke tilted her head in thought.

"You said you wouldn't use this lie again, after... the last time."

"Ah, and if I recall, you wanted to use... what was it? 'The opposite approach'?" Hawke quoted. "We're doing things your way."

"Hawke, you're not... serious." He looked at her, searching for any sign of mirth on her face. Hawke stared at him with utmost seriosity, something he'd seen only a handful of times during his long acquaintance with her. "You are. You're completely serious," he concluded, his chest becoming clogged with panic and wonder, all mingled together painfully and causing a terrible knot in his throat. "Isn't this... abrupt? We should be giving this more consideration."

"I have. Decision's made," Hawke replied smoothly. Her arm still hooked with his, she pulled him along in a leisurely stroll around the square.

"You can't simply—"

"Oh, hush, Fenris," she patted his arm. "You know what they say, 'leap before you look' and all that."

"I'm fairly sure it's 'look before you leap'," Fenris groaned.

"Is it?" Hawke tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Maybe it's the other way around in Tevinter. Strange folks, Tevinters."

Fenris shook his head. He was at a loss for words.

"Don't you _want_ to marry me?" Hawke asked quietly after a while, and Fenris inhaled sharply.

"It's... complicated."

"Surely it isn't such an unimaginable thing."

"It is, to me."

Hawke froze in place, and Fenris just then realized his mistake.

"No, I misspoke," he said quickly. "What I meant to say... Slaves are not allowed to marry. I never imagined that I'd ever..." He stopped himself and searched for other words, better words. "Marrying you would make me happy beyond my wildest dreams. It's not the sort of happiness I ever imagined was within my grasp."

Hawke listened carefully, her face neutral.

She lifted a hand to his face and brushed her knuckles against his cheek.

"All the more reason to do it, then," she said firmly.

Fenris could only acquiesce.

* * *

><p>At least two dozen young couples gathered for the ceremony, but Hawke and Fenris stood out for the mere reason that they were the only ones to show up armed. They received more than their fair share of strange looks, which Hawke ignored, and Fenris returned with a glare.<p>

Hawke had braided flowers into her hair, even though Fenris had first-hand knowledge of the fact that she was no longer a maiden. She seemed truly taken with the idea of marriage, and grinned throughout the entire ceremony. When they finally received the Chantry sister's blessing, she did not give him the chaste peck that most of the other brides opted for, but a heated kiss that drew yet more attention to them. By that point, Fenris was beyond caring.

"You know what we have to do next, yes?" Hawke asked, a conspirative smile playing on her lips.

"...Next?"

She brought her lips to his ear and whispered, "We need to consummate the marriage."

Fenris shivered, and it wasn't only from the tickle of her breath against his ear.

As it happened, they were not the only ones to have had the same idea. The other couples scattered as well, and seemed to have beaten them to all the nice hiding spots. After three embarrassing incidents in which Hawke and Fenris accidentally walked in on another couple's... marriage being consummated, they retreated to the tavern in the village and took up in the corner with ale and a warm meal.

"We'll get around to it eventually," Hawke assured Fenris, but the elf still felt frustration take over him.

"But it won't be on our _wedding night_," he muttered bitterly.

Hawke laughed and nuzzled his jaw affectionately.

Towards midnight, they wandered out of the tavern, heated by the ale, and took to the streets. It was quiet, the party having moved indoors for the most part, and Fenris pulled her into a secluded corner.

"What are you doing?" Hawke asked, and by the giggle in her voice, she knew _exactly_ what he was doing. Fenris pinned her against the wall of a house.

"My husbandly duty... wife," he purred into her neck as he busied himself with getting her undressed.

"Ooh..." Hawke exhaled softly, sounding amazed.

Fenris knew the feeling. It felt right, being Hawke's husband. Like everything was finally falling into place, perfect and precious.

He traced her jawline with kisses, and was about to reach her earlobe, when what seemed like gallons of water fell from above and soaked them. Hawke shrieked from the sudden bath, and Fenris jumped, grabbing for his sword.

Looking up, Fenris could see, from an open window, an elderly woman holding an empty bucket was glaring down at them.

"Oh, no you don't!" the woman groused. "Not again! Every year, you young'ins keep me awake all night with your rutting under my window. Not anymore! Find yourself some other place!"

With that, she disappeared back inside and pulled the shutters closed after her.

Fenris stared at the closed shutters, absolutely dumbfounded, but Hawke launched into a fit of loud, obnoxious laughter. She slicked back her hair, which was now a dripping tangle of dark locks and wilted flowers.

Fenris shook his head and let go of his sword.

"That was... something," Hawke wheezed out as her laughter died down.

Fenris muttered something in Arcanum.

"Hey, it's alright," Hawke said, touching his arm. "It won't always be perfect, marriage."

"I know. But you _deserve_ perfection," he said mournfully. "I want to make you happy."

"I know you will. You make me happy every moment you're with me." She kissed his cheek. "But you know what will make me even happier?" He looked at her with mounting interest. "Finding some place to dry ourselves off."

Fenris grinned wolfishly. She took his arm and lead him away.

"Things have a way of working themselves out, don't they?" she remarked idly.


End file.
